


don't stop to think this through

by gendernoncompliant



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Multi, Prompt Fill, Snowed In, Truth or Dare, season 3 ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gendernoncompliant/pseuds/gendernoncompliant
Summary: “You and Nathan. Did you ever…?”A cat-like grin blooms on Duke’s face, smug and vibrant. He leans back against the arm of the couch, looking for all the world like a king in his castle. “Did we ever—what?” He teases. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”
Relationships: Duke Crocker/Audrey Parker, Duke Crocker/Nathan Wuornos (mentioned), Nathan Wuornos/Audrey Parker (mentioned), pre-OT3 - Relationship
Comments: 37
Kudos: 72





	don't stop to think this through

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crownedcarl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownedcarl/gifts).



> Here we go again with another prompt fill for the ever incredible CrownedCarl. I had a BLAST with this one, and it wound up a lot longer than I first expected it to be. I hope you enjoy it.  
> The prompt was "I'm not playing truth or dare with you."
> 
> The fic is set somewhere mid-s3. I was imagining it happening before Colorado, since I don't reference Colorado at all in the fic. But honestly the exact time frame doesn't really matter. They're cute.
> 
> *Title from Girls Like You by Denny

Audrey would like to believe she’s got a pretty solid grasp on linear time, at this point in her life. But she has no idea how it got so late. Time seems awful hard to keep track of around a certain local ne’re-do-well. (Although, for someone with a reputation of being the town scoundrel, Duke sure does a lot of _helping_ these days.)

“Yeah, nobody’s going anywhere in this weather,” Duke comments, peering through the gap in the curtains at the snowfall outside. He saunters back from the window, turning on his heel and tucking his hands into his pockets. “Sorry I crashed your party, but I think you’re stuck with me for a while.”

“Some party,” Audrey laughs, giving a pointed glance around her empty apartment. “It’s a real rager, up here.”

It’s too late to be drinking coffee, but she made a fresh pot when the cold snap hit. Duke was only supposed to be popping upstairs to check on her before he headed home from his shift, but they got to talking the way they always do, and suddenly it was hours later and the storm Duke had been aiming to avoid was right on top of them.

She offers him a mug as consolation.

When he takes it from her hand, he pins her with one of those too-warm half-smiles of his—the kind that always feels like it means more than it should—and it sends the same electric thrill up her spine as always. Long as she’s been in Haven, and she’s never quite gotten used to him. The smiles, the meaningful looks. Duke’s comfortable, he’s safe—he’ll always be safe—but he’s exciting, too. Even when he isn’t trying to be.

Maybe she’s biased.

Duke digs through her cabinets with the practiced confidence of a man who spends entirely too much time in her apartment. Not that she minds. He finds what he’s looking for after only a moment’s shuffle, proclaiming a bright, “Aha!” when he pulls down a bottle of Kahlua—left behind from the last time he brought her spiked coffee.

“If we’re gonna drink coffee at ten o’clock at night, it oughta at least be the good stuff,” he decides with a lazy smile and an easy shrug. He pours a generous and unmeasured helping into each of their cups before settling beside her on the couch.

He’s careful, she notices. Despite her taking her usual spot in the center cushion, he settles firmly in the corner—close, but not touching. Maybe she’s reading too much into it. Maybe _she’s_ the one thinking a little too hard about the seating arrangement. But something about it feels deliberate, like he’s trying not to give something away.

Taking a sip of her newly alcoholic coffee, she files the thought away for later.

It only takes a few minutes of flipping through Netflix (or, _trying_ to flip through Netflix) to realize their problem.

“Internet’s out,” Audrey sighs, sinking backwards against the cushion and tossing the remote to the far, unoccupied corner of the couch. “What are we supposed to do now? _Talk_ to each other or something?” Her mouth curves into a poorly disguised smile. “Gross.”

“Ugh, but I’ve been talking to you _all_ night,” Duke agrees, the same grin peeking out from under the performative exasperation.

She makes a thoughtful sound, considering their options. “Dave gave me Settlers of Catan for Christmas, but I think you need three players.”

“Oh no,” Duke chuckles, shaking his head, “he ropes me into Catan every Hanukkah. _And_ he’s a sore loser.” He shoots her an easy smile. “If I never play that game again, it’ll be too soon.”

Sometimes Audrey forgets that Duke isn’t quite as much of an outsider in this town as Nathan makes it sound like he is. “You celebrate Hanukkah with the Teagues?” She asks, a little surprised. “I didn’t know you guys were actually friends.”

Duke makes a face, jokingly over-thoughtful at the suggestion. “Eh, they’re less friends and more like weird uncles. But everyone in this town is kinda weird, so it evens out.”

Grinning at him, Audrey says, “It’s sweet that you guys hang out,” and Duke rolls his eyes with a little puff of laughter.

“Okay, so—Catan is out.” He nudges her, a roguish smirk on his face. “How about some good ol’ fashioned truth or dare?”

The suggestion startles a laugh out of Audrey. Duke’s good at making her laugh. “No,” she argues, but it’s hard to sound firm and serious when she can’t wipe the smile off her face, “No, I’m not playing truth or dare with you.”

He raises his eyebrows, pushing when he taunts, “Oh, you’re too good for truth or dare, huh?”

“I’m too _old_ for truth or dare,” she argues, but she’s not putting up much of a fight. It sounds—fun. Sometimes it gets too easy to lose track of _fun_ , in Haven.

“Says who?”

Audrey makes an awful big show of caving for someone who wasn’t really against the idea in the first place. She throws up her hands and shifts on the couch, sitting cross-legged so she can face him directly. “You know what, fine. I guess we’re doing this.”

“We’re doing this,” he echoes, clapping his hands against his thighs and leaning in conspiratorially. “Alright, truth or dare?”

Audrey’s still just a little wary about the whole operation. She only takes a moment to consider before deciding on the safer of the two options. “Truth.”

Duke clicks his teeth. “Ooh, I get it, okay.”

Audrey grins in spite of herself. “Get what?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He holds up his hands as though in surrender, shaking his head. “Just never pegged you for a coward, Audrey Parker.”

She shifts to kick his shin, maybe just a little bit harder than she should have. He laughs out a flustered, “ _hey_ ,” before they both settle.

“Well, don’t ask a boring question,” she tells him, “and I won’t have to be.”

He watches her through over-exaggeratedly squinted eyes, putting in the work to choose the absolute perfect question. The longer he stares, the hotter her face feels. Which is definitely, absolutely the fault of the Kahlua he dumped in their coffees and not at all related to the intensity of his eyes on her.

Finally, Duke lets out a thoughtful, “What was it like kissing Chris Brody?”

Of all the questions he could have asked, Audrey was not expecting that. The shock must show on her face, because Duke’s quick to burble into defensive laughter.

“What?!” He crows, grinning from ear to ear. “He’s got an infatuation trouble! I might have—y’know, I might have daydreamed!”

Audrey isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol or just Duke, but she buzzes with a pleasant kind of embarrassment while she fumbles for the right words. “It was, uh—wet.”

“ _Wet_?”

“Not—! I mean, okay, not—it wasn’t _bad,_ he was just really—y’know.” She waves her hands, trying to communicate the feeling without having to get into specifics about it. In retrospect, maybe it _was_ kind of bad. “He was a lot.”

“You’re breakin’ my heart,” Duke mourns, laying a hand dramatically over his chest. “Not Chris Brody.”

“Whatever, loverboy,” she drawls, unable to keep the smile out of her voice. She shoves his knee and he beams. “My turn. Truth or dare.”

Duke stretches languidly, projecting ease, comfort, confidence. He’s trying too hard.

Audrey likes that he tries that hard around her.

“Dare,” Duke decides.

Audrey doesn’t have to think about it. She’s had this one planned since he suggested the game—a little payback for dragging her into it. “I dare you,” she singsongs, “to eat a spoonful of chili powder.”

Duke’s mouth drops open in horrified—(delighted)—shock. “You’re a monster,” he gasps.

She cocks her head, an entirely too smug expression crossing her face when she parrots back at him, “Never pegged you for a coward, Duke Crocker.”

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that,” Duke chuckles. He levers himself up and crosses to her kitchen. It makes her heart flutter in her chest—just a little—that he knows exactly where to find it. She thinks about the times he’s stood in that exact spot by her stove, making breakfast just because ‘he was around’ or whatever other dozen excuses he had for stopping by.

Now, though, she’s all giddy, childish excitement watching him stare unhappily at the teaspoon of chili powder in his hand. He makes a face, starts to bring it to his mouth, stops—casts a petulant glance her direction—opens his mouth again, gets a little closer, sighs.

“You’re terrible, you know,” he says and Audrey bubbles with laughter.

“Quit stalling!”

Duke shoots her one last sullen glare before tipping his head back and dumping it into his mouth. Immediately he explodes into a cough, a puff of red dust billowing from his mouth.

“Oh, that _sucks_ ,” Duke chokes, his face screwed up as he battles another bout of coughing.

“I’m sorry,” Audrey squeaks, but it doesn’t sound all that sincere when she’s curled up with her hand over her mouth, trying desperately to control a fit of giggles. “I’m sorry, that was bad,” she admits with entirely too much delight.

Duke sticks his head under the kitchen faucet, gargles, and spits before wiping his mouth and returning crankily to the couch.

Well, maybe not so cranky. Audrey can see him struggling against a grin. She hides her own behind her hand. A dusting of red powder clings to his moustache. She thinks he might catch her looking.

“I’ll get you back for that,” Duke promises, settling beside her again. He leans his back against the arm of the couch, his knee pressed against her thigh. “Alright, wise guy. Truth or dare? Think very carefully.”

Audrey doesn’t hesitate. Grinning, she declares, “Dare.”

Duke only considers her for a moment before saying, “I dare you to let me text Nathan from your phone.”

Oh, this feels dangerous. She pauses, worrying her lip with her teeth as she runs through the possibilities of what Duke could be plotting. Duke just raises his eyebrows and holds out his hand, palm up. After a moment that seems to drag on for ages, she relents. Whatever it is, she can handle it. Worst case scenario, he sends something wildly inappropriate and she and Nathan are forced to actually make some _progress_ on this will-they-won’t-they game of almosts they’ve been caught in for months.

She drops the phone in his hand, and he taps out a message that only takes a couple seconds before passing it back. By the time she’s holding it again, her phone buzzes with Nathan’s answer.

_You looked stupid today_

**Duke, why do you have Audrey’s phone**

Audrey barks a surprised laugh. “He figured you out,” she teases, taking a moment to send a quick _ignore him, sorry_ to Nathan before she forgets, and he goes and works himself into a lather over it.

Duke manages to sound not at all surprised and only a little disappointed. “Yeah, he would.”

“Waste of a good dare,” she jokes. He could have asked for anything. She’s not the only one playing it safe.

Duke looks more than interested, leaning in just a little when he hums, “Oh yeah? And what did you want me to make you do?”

Audrey knows she isn’t imagining the warm lilt to his voice, the _suggestion_. She matches it, her own honey-sweet and playful when she hums, “I’m the one asking the questions, now. Truth or dare?”

Duke’s gaze drops visibly to her mouth and hangs there a moment too long.

“You know what? Truth.”

It only throws her off for a second. She’d expected him to be bold, to snowball the heat of the moment into something—well, hotter. But she can work with this, too.

She’s been wondering about something for a while now, anyway.

“You and Nathan. Did you ever…?”

A cat-like grin blooms on Duke’s face, smug and vibrant. He leans back against the arm of the couch, looking for all the world like a king in his castle. “Did we ever—what?” He teases. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

Oh, what the hell. It’s truth or dare. She figures she’s not playing right if she isn’t being at least a little bit scandalous.

“Hook up?” She asks, a curious smile playing across her face.

“Yep,” Duke answers, clipped and pleased and pointedly without elaboration. When she opens her mouth for a follow-up, he interrupts her with an entirely too delighted, “And if you wanted dirty details, you should have asked a better question. My turn.”

“Truth,” Audrey decides.

Duke pauses. He’s tipped forward awfully close. Close enough that she can smell the cedar-y notes of his cologne. She realizes he might not be thinking of a question so much as watching her, and the thought sends a thrill up her spine.

When he speaks, the low rumble of his voice affects her like an almost physical thing. “There something you wanna tell me?”

“Yes,” Audrey murmurs, her heart thundering in her chest. They keep leaning together, narrowing the space between them. He shifts forward, gripping the back of the couch. He doesn’t touch her, and she _wants_ him to, and it’s almost agonizing.

Barely more than a whisper, he asks, “You gonna tell me what it is?”

A bright, self-satisfied smirk pulls at the corners of her mouth. “Should’ve asked a better question,” she hums, maybe a little bit too excited by the frustrated, not-quite-laugh it pulls from Duke’s chest.

“Ask me,” he urges, a little too focused. A little too serious.

“Truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

Audrey knows what he wants. It would be easy to ask for it. But she doesn’t want the game to end. She’s having _fun_. More fun than she’s had in ages. “I think you need to cool off,” she teases. It’s her turn to cast a less than subtle glance at his mouth. She knows he notices, because he sucks in a soft rush of air. Like he’s been burned.

“I dare you,” she muses, “to go stand outside for one minute.”

It’s like it takes a second for Duke’s brain to catch up. He’s still tipped forward into her space when a confused frown creases between his brows. “Pretty boring dare,” he murmurs, as if waiting for her to change her mind and give him a better one.

She just grins. “Then I guess it’ll be easy, won’t it?”

Finally, he untangles himself from the tension between them and sits back with a laugh. “Fine, but my hypothermia’s on your conscience.”

“Big baby,” she taunts, and he waves a hand at her, rising to his feet.

“I’m guessing I don’t get a jacket,” he drawls, amused underneath his pretend disapproval.

“Absolutely not.”

As soon as Duke opens the door, a rush of cold air floods the apartment. Outside, the snow’s still coming down, but not in quite the same alarming rush as before. He takes a deep breath to brace himself before marching out onto the porch.

“Close the door!” Audrey yelps, scuttling back out of the path of the wind.

“No way,” Duke counters, his whole body one rigid, uncomfortable line, hair buffeted by the wind. “No, no, no—if I have to stand out here in it, you can deal.”

“That’s _not_ how the game works!” She shouts, tugging the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapping it securely around her.

Duke gets less and less cocky as the seconds tick by, until he’s bouncing back and forth on his feet in an attempt to maintain some kind of body heat. The moment the alarm on her phone goes off, he all but throws himself back through the threshold.

He’s flushed pink when he hurries back inside, arms pinned to his sides as he shivers. He slams and locks the door as if the wind might try to break it down and follow him inside. He shakes the snow from his sweater, but she can see where it clings to him, still—especially the pretty scatter across his lashes and the crest of his brow, the flakes slowly melting in his hair. He looks just a little bit otherworldly, like that: all blushed and sparkling with snow. It makes her heart do a funny little flip in her chest.

“Why do your dares always put me through bodily torment?” He sighs, retreating deeper into the apartment to where it’s warm. He doesn’t sit back down, just yet—instead pacing the floor in an attempt to get his blood flowing. His blatant misery would almost be enough to make her feel guilty if he wasn’t doing such a bad job at hiding how much fun he was having.

“Alright, you sadist,” he grumbles, “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Audrey says with a laugh, “I think I earned it.”

Still shivering, Duke crosses his arms tightly over his chest—hands tucked into his armpits—and says, “I dare you to come take this terrible, wet sweater off of me.” It sounds a lot less like a seduction and a lot more like grumpy complaint. For whatever reason, that detail in particular has her feeling bright and fond and a little adoring.

Audrey stumbles into a laugh. “What, you’re not gonna dare _me_ to strip?”

He shoots her a helpless, pathetic look that’s only a little bit undercut by the fact that he can’t keep himself from smiling. “I’m _cold,_ ” he practically whines.

Audrey abandons the blanket when she stands. Face to face, it’s easy to remember just how high the stakes had gotten before she—literally—left him out in the cold. He goes still as a statue, watching her with an expression she can’t quite understand. Nathan would know what it means.

And wow, does _that_ thought come with some new implications.

Her hands find the hem of his damp sweater, and she swears he holds his breath. She tries—she really does—to be professional about it. But even with all the extra care she can muster, her fingers brush against his skin and he isn’t able to hide his sudden intake of breath.

She lifts the sweater, watching with something close to awe as he moves with her—bending to help get it off. Everything seems to slow down, like time got caught on a snag and has to catch up. When he’s left standing tan and shirtless in front of her, she realizes she’s gotten awful close. She has to tip her head back to look at him.

She keeps a tight grip on the sweater. Without it, she can’t be sure what she’d do with her hands.

Her voice comes out hushed and a little breathless when she teases, “You gonna dare me to go find you another one?”

Her clothes would be comically small on him, but she knows she’s got some oversized hoodies that would work in a pinch. She’s not sure how she’s supposed to focus on anything when he’s half-dressed. It takes an inhuman amount of willpower not to look. Or—well. She doesn’t have _that_ kind of willpower. It takes an inhuman amount of willpower not to _stare_.

“Not my turn,” he whispers, hardly any voice behind the words at all. He doesn’t look away from her for even a moment.

Duke keeps his hands to himself, but he tips further into her space like he can’t help it, like she’s magnetic, like he couldn’t dream of being anywhere else.

He went out in the cold, but all of the sudden she’s the one who shivers.

“Truth or dare, Audrey?” He asks.

They both know what’s happening. She doesn’t have to be a mind reader—or know Duke as well as Nathan does—to understand that much. She could pick dare. He could dare her to kiss him the way he’s so clearly been waiting for all night.

But he won’t.

She isn’t sure how she knows it, but she does. Duke’s brave—braver than almost anyone she knows—but it has nothing to do with bravery.

It’s a line. And he’ll walk them right up to the edge of it, but he won’t step across.

Ever since she came to Haven, Audrey has spent a lot of time watching the people around her make decisions for her. Too often, they were virtual strangers: people who knew things she didn’t, leveraging that knowledge against her. Sometimes they were people she thought she knew, shattering the already small circle of her trust. Sometimes they were people she loved, trying to protect her in exactly the wrong way. It didn’t really matter who it was, in the end. All of them made her feel helpless and furious and _lost_. Duke never made her feel that way.

Caught up in her own thoughts, the silence drags a little too long. Duke searches her expression, his breath gone shallow and unsteady. She wonders if the flush on his cheeks has anything to do with the cold, anymore.

“Truth,” she says, gripping his sweater tighter.

He considers her for what must only be seconds but feels like an eternity. The intensity of his gaze makes her feel like she’s the one with a shirt off.

Finally, he murmurs, “Are we still playing?”

It’s an out. He’s giving her an out. If she says yes, he’ll step back, laugh, ask for a dare and then make her go get him the shirt she promised. He’ll keep a friendly but respectful distance the rest of the night. His smile will be too bright, and he’ll look too tense around the eyes. He’ll find an excuse to leave even when the road’s still packed with snow. He won’t get this bold with her, again. Not for a long time. Maybe ever. He’ll pretend like nothing is wrong, but things will be different—in tiny, indescribable ways.

She wonders, with a pang, if something like that happened between him and Nathan: if he extended a hand and Nathan refused it, and Duke quietly resolved to play his cards more closely to his chest from there on in.

Audrey drops the sweater to the floor with a damp thud. Duke almost startles, something uncertain crossing his features. But before he can step back, she catches the back of his neck in the cup of her hand and promises, “Not part of the game,” when she drags him down to kiss her.

He makes a soft, shocked sound against her mouth. There’s only a moment’s hesitation before his big hands find her waist to pull her closer. It’s agonizingly gentle, at first. Almost chaste: just the soft press of his lips against hers. He moves with her, lets her lead, _gives_. It makes her head spin. She grips the nape of his neck more tightly, pulls him in, and he opens the kiss like an offering. Letting out a heated sigh, she licks behind his teeth, only to yank back in surprise.

“You’re spicy!” She blurts, her mouth moving faster than her brain.

It takes just a second for Duke to catch up before he’s tumbling into exasperated laughter. He tugs her back to him, mouth warm up against her jaw when he teases, “And whose fault is that?”

She laughs, even when the sound melts into something closer to a moan at the brush of his lips. Tilting her head back, inviting more, she hums a thrilled, “I like it.”

Duke makes a sound that might be a groan, his fingers digging into her hips while he drags kisses along the line of her throat. “I’m not mainlining chili powder every time I kiss you.”

Audrey pulls back enough that she can look at him, her expression bright when she teases, “Oh, so you think you’ll get to do it again, huh?”

Duke’s wearing one of those warm, intimate, unfairly gorgeous little half-smiles that she’s always been weak for. “Yeah,” he murmurs, shifting to cradle her face in his hands. “Yeah, I do.”

He leans in again, slow and sure. He tastes like spice and heat—makes her lips buzz and her heart stutter. When he winds his arms around her waist, it nearly lifts her off her feet. Balanced on her toes, she pushes her hands into his hair and revels in the low, fractured moan it earns her.

“Hey, Duke?” She mumbles up against his mouth. He pulls back enough to look at her, a dazed expression on his face.

“What?” He asks, less than subtle as his hands start to sneak up the back of her shirt.

“Truth or dare?”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, please drop a comment and let me know what you think! They really keep me going :)


End file.
